


Sink Your Teeth In, Baby (Never Let Me Go)

by KibblerEars



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve's a brat, Temporary Character Death, Vampire Bucky Barnes, Vampire Turning, Vampires, and Bucky is a vampire, in which Steve and Bucky have only known each other for five years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 15:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8018605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KibblerEars/pseuds/KibblerEars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the things he had expected if Steve ever found out he was a vampire, Bucky would be the first to admit, he hadn’t expected Steve to want to be turned too. </p><p>But Steve always did like to make Bucky's life difficult in the best and worst ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sink Your Teeth In, Baby (Never Let Me Go)

**Author's Note:**

> Part of this was written on my phone in a group chat joyfully titled "Brofleet" and then it grew into this piece of trash. 
> 
> I say trash lovingly as this is also a birthday present for my dear Twinkel - dude, it's been almost a year since we first met and I'm so glad we did. You're awesome, a blast to have around, and one of the true OG Seb Busters. I hope you have an amazing birthday and I can't wait to see you later this year! <3 <3 <3 (I'm sorry it's unbeta'd!) 
> 
> (ALSO see end notes for the general Vampire Bucky aesthetic!)
> 
> I rated it Mature but it could also be rated Teen, I think? There's only brief mention of cock and such, so best to be on the safe side.

"C'mon, Buck. Think 'bout it. You'd never hafta look after me again, I'd be strong and healthy. We could...we could...just think of all the things we could do.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes and pointedly doesn’t bother looking over at Steve, who has been whining for the past five or ten minutes by this point. 

When he first met little Steve Rogers nearly five years ago, he never expected that _this_ would be the conversation they had on a damn near daily basis. But when Steve walked in on Bucky covered in blood after a night spent feeding on some questionable animals - he had stopped drinking from humans when he moved in with Steve two years into their...whatever they were, friends, lovers, both...he wasn’t even sure some days - Bucky had been forced to admit the truth of his nature. That, as they say, had been that. 

Of all the things he had expected if Steve ever found out he was a vampire, Bucky would be the first to admit, he hadn’t expected Steve to want to be turned too. He had actually hoped that wouldn’t happen, but Steve always did like to defy expectations. It had turned Bucky’s life into a constant stream of torture, though. Whenever Steve brought up the idea of being turned, Bucky’s instincts would hone in on the minutiae of Steve’s body - the roar of his blood in his veins, his heart against his ribcage, the wheeze in his lungs, the grace in those long fingers whenever they worked on Steve’s art. 

It wasn’t right to want to taste Steve’s blood - it couldn’t be natural. Even for a vampire. He’s tasted Steve a couple of times, of course, it’s not like the kid would ever let him get away with not tasting it at least once before Bucky refused to turn him. Which is how Bucky knows Steve’s blood is too...too bitter - probably from the anemia. 

Yet, that only seems to make it all the more palatable to one James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. 

“Buck!” Steve pleads once again from the couch where he’s drawing, and he’s infused just enough of a whine into it that Bucky’s heart, if it beat, would have jumped in his chest. 

"Stevie, I ain't changin'ya. I ain't spending eternity tasting your nasty-ass blood," Bucky pulls himself from his musings long enough to shoot back at the other man.

Steve snorts and waves a dismissive hand in the vampire's direction before he turns back to his sketch, "we both know you love the taste of my anemic blood." 

Bucky's mouth opens, ready to defend himself, but no words come out and he shuts it a moment later. He wishes he could dispute that claim - fuckin’ wishes Steve wasn’t so _right_ all the time. The kid is his damn weakness and Stevie, oh, Stevie knows it. 

More than that, Stevie fuckin’ _relishes_ it.

He glares over at the human who is laughing into his sketchbook, because he knows Bucky has absolutely no defense for that argument. 

"Fuck you, Rogers," Bucky finally growls, stalking across the room to make some dinner for Steve. He slams their one tiny pot down onto the kitchen table and begins to root around for something edible that won’t kill Steve. They’re running low on food - he makes a mental note to scrounge some up later tonight before he comes home from work tomorrow.

"I'd rather you bite me first, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers." 

Bucky almost doesn’t hear Steve at first - but vampires have excellent ears and Bucky is always attuned to the other man when they’re together. The words still manage to sink into him and he sharply inhales unneeded air. He can hear and feel Steve’s heart pounding an arrhythmic beat in his chest; can smell Steve’s blood rising to the surface as Steve undoubtedly blushes to the best of his ability. 

If that’s how the brat wants to play, he muses to himself, then that’s how they’ll play. They’ve spent enough time talking about it - the pros and cons. And while Bucky always denies Steve that which Steve begs for, maybe it’s time to change things up. Permanently. 

\--

After a long moment with no snarky reply from the vampire, Steve finally chances a glance to their small kitchenette. Where once his best friend had stood making food, he was gone and Steve was, seemingly, alone. He sets his pen down and flips closed his worn sketchbook to hide the portrait of Bucky he had been working on. Swallowing hard, his heart pounding in his ears, Steve climbs to his feet, calling out, "Buck?" 

Silence echoes in the tiny, rundown one-bedroom they can barely afford. Steve tiptoes through their small living room and kitchen. Bucky is nowhere to be found, but he can feel the vampire’s gaze following his every move. There's only one thing this can mean. 

Tonight, he's the prey. 

\--

Steve putters around the kitchen and living room, purposely testing Bucky’s patience as he makes himself a barely edible sandwich with what little bread they have left. He even takes the time to clean the plate and the cup he used for tepid water. Briefly, he debates making himself a cup of tea, just to draw it out for Bucky, but he can’t deny the anticipation making his heart pound harder and faster than it probably should.  
Sucking in a deep breath - and forcing away the cough that threatens to claw out of his throat at that - Steve turns to the curtain that is their bedroom door and takes a step towards it. Every step he takes makes his limbs feel heavy with anticipation and need. Knowing Bucky can hear his heart thudding in his ribcage just makes that feeling all the headier. 

He finally, _finally_ , makes it to the bedroom and suddenly, there's Bucky, pressing Steve against the wall - a hand on his neck holding his face against the wall as Bucky pins Steve's body in place with his own.

“You’re mine, Rogers,” Bucky snarls into his ear and Steve just grins against the hideous wallpaper that’s in their bedroom. He presses back against Bucky, purposely rolling his hips to grind his ass against the vampire’s groin. 

“You talk big, Barnes, but are you _ever_ gonna follow through?” He twists against Bucky, inwardly preening at the fact that Bucky is holding him just tight enough to keep him in place, but has no problems easing up on his hold so Steve can turn to face him. Once his back is against the wall, and his arms are around Bucky’s neck, Steve flashes a broad, cheeky grin up at Bucky. 

Bucky, in turn, bares his fangs down at Steve, purposely dragging teasing his tongue over the hooked curve of his canines. “I follow through and there’s no going back, Rogers,” he leans in close, dragging the same teeth over the pale skin of Steve’s throat, voice dropping to a whisper, “I follow through and you’re _mine forever_.” 

He knows Steve will forever deny the whimper that escapes his throat, but Bucky would never forget the way Steve’s breath catches in his chest, and the way his scent grows twofold right under Bucky’s nose - the scent of arousal and need, desperation and hope mixed into one heady mix Bucky wants to drink for the rest of eternity.

“That what you want, Stevie,” his voice drops into that seductive whisper, “want me to take you apart and mold you into mine; claim you for all the world to see. Keep you for all eternity?” 

There’s another breathless whimper in his ear, and bony hands clutch at his shoulders as if to drag him impossibly closer. Bucky’s lips curve into a smirk he knows Steve can feel as he slides his hands down Steve’s slender body to lift him up. He presses Steve’s upper torso against the wall, Steve’s legs automatically wrapping around his waist.

“Gonna hafta use your words, Stevie,” Bucky breathes into Steve’s ear before nipping at Steve’s earlobe just hard enough to nick a drop of blood free. He savors the rough, coppery taste on his tongue, licking and suckling at the tiny wound just to listen to Steve gasp and whine. “Words, doll,” he pulls away just to remind him, grinning at the smaller man, who stares at him through hooded eyes. 

Suddenly, Steve rolls his entire body up against Bucky’s, letting Bucky feel just how affected he is by this; how his cock strains in Steve’s ill-fitting trousers, desperate for attention. His fingernails dig into Bucky’s shoulders through his thin shirt as he tugs himself up so he’s nose-to-nose with Bucky, growling in Bucky’s face, “ _take me_ , Buck.” 

Bucky allows himself one groan of want before he slams Steve up against the wall again, mouth latching onto Steve’s neck. He laves his tongue over Steve’s racing pulse, tasting and scenting Steve before he closes his mouth over Steve’s skin and sucks hard, pulling blood to the surface. The smell of it makes Bucky heady with intoxication and need.

Hips thrusting of their own accord, Bucky lets his fangs slip free once again, scraping them ever-so-lightly over Steve’s neck, a hint, a tease of what’s to come. Steve shudders in his arms, arching up against Bucky, fingers scrabbling to find purchase in Bucky’s hair, mucking up the carefully styled locks. Bucky definitely can’t bring himself to care when Steve is panting and moaning so prettily in his ear, though, and the vampire inhales sharply one last time, savoring the last few beats of Steve’s heartbeat thudding against his ribcage. 

Finally, when Steve is a writhing mess against him, when he can feel Steve’s leaking cock through Steve’s clothes, when his best friend is begging him to _please, just do it_. Only then does he let his fangs pierce Steve’s delicate skin. Only then does he let the sweet-bitterness of Steve’s blood glide across his tongue. 

Letting out a quiet groan, Bucky sucks in harder, drinking down Steve’s blood with a gusto he had never before allowed himself. Steve didn’t taste like any other human he had ever drank from - the anemia gave Steve a more bitter flavor than a healthy-blooded human, but it was Steve’s own personal fire and spirit that gave his blood the heady taste not unlike that of cinnamon. He couldn’t really describe it any other way - Steve’s blood was like drinking fire and ice, like tasting hope and determination, all wrapped up in in a cinnamon and ginger coating that made Bucky want to drink from him until he was a full, bloated mess, and then continue drinking. 

Against him, Steve was rocking his hips, thrusting that clothed hard cock up against Bucky’s belly, and letting out the most beautiful little whimpers and gasps. This was what the artist had been goading Bucky into doing for years, ever since Bucky admitted to him, a scant three years into their friendship, just what he was and why he disappeared at night so often. This was what they had been building towards. 

This was Bucky finally claiming what was rightfully his. 

Steve’s thrusts grew weaker the more Bucky drank from him, his whines slowing into heaving gasps for air he would never again need. At one point, his body went rigid and tense against Bucky, one final groan escaping Steve’s throat before he slumped in Bucky’s arms. 

The pulse under his mouth had finally slowed enough that Bucky didn’t even have to force himself away for once. As Steve’s heart flutters, working triple time to pump what little blood Steve has left through his veins, Bucky pulls back to offer his boy a bloody grin. 

Steve’s eyes are closed, his mouth slack, chest barely moving as the effort to breathe becomes far too great a strain. This moment, this moment is something Bucky has only heard about in legends. His own Sire once told it to him, and he knows his Sire’s Sire told it to her. It’s a moment of clarity and peace that a vampire can only feel right before they turn their own. 

Easily keeping Steve propped against the wall with just one arm and his body, Bucky frees his left arm to bring it up to his mouth. He breaks the skin of his wrist, freeing just a few precious drops of his own blood before he presses it to Steve’s slack lips. Want, lust, and warmth fill him as he watches Steve stay non-responsive for barely a moment before he latches onto Bucky’s wrist like a baby to a nipple. The gentle suckling slowly grows in its ferocity until Steve’s eyes flutter open and shut one last time and he goes limp in Bucky’s arms. 

Chuckling to himself, Bucky wraps his now-bloodied arm around Steve once again and lugs the smaller man over towards the bed. He stretches Steve out on the tiny twin mattress, tugging the blanket out from under him so he can tuck him in properly. Then he kneels on the edge of the bed and just watches Steve’s slack face. 

Steve’s always been pale, he’s always been tiny, and he’s often looked on the brink of death. For now, in this moment, he actually is dead - Bucky can no longer hear his heart pounding a skip beat in his chest, can’t feel the rush of blood in his veins. And yet, Steve’s never looked more peaceful. 

He licks excess blood off his lips, savoring the taste lingering there, before he presses a soft kiss to Steve’s mouth. Bucky slowly climbs to his feet and begins to rummage for some clean clothes. Steve won’t wake up for a couple of days yet and when he does, they’ll have veritable lifetimes to spend together. 

Until then, he has work to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, for assistance, I was personally imagining vampire!Bucky having the following type of aesthetic: 
> 
>  
> 
> Comments and kudos are life ;)


End file.
